


sweet liver

by lovetelit



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hannibal (TV) Fusion, Blood, Cannibalism, M/M, Mild Gore, Minor Character Death, Other, uhm yeah welp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:41:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26619877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovetelit/pseuds/lovetelit
Summary: It was the perfect night for liver.
Relationships: Kim Jongdae | Chen/Kim Jongdae | Chen
Comments: 7
Kudos: 11
Collections: Lil' Something Fest 2020





	sweet liver

**Author's Note:**

> ok
> 
> 1) please proceed with caution, and look at those tags before reading. It's not super bad, but be mindful that everything I tagged does exist in this fic. 
> 
> 2) thank you so much C for beta-ing this, i love you x1000

It was a gloomy evening. The skies drew in somber shades of blue, clouds highlighted in grey. He waited for the consistent patter of rain, watching as lightning bloomed in the sky, harsh and vibrant. It was the perfect weather for liver.

 _Vos mépris chaque jour_ played over the quiet hum of his refrigerator. The liver he had left out for about thirty minutes rested on his cutting board, pliable. He cut out the veins, carefully, using the very tip of his knife. They were soft, pink, reminding him too much of their owner. 

Baekhyun had been soft, the light greeting his face with favour at every angle. He had a charm, eyes bright and genuine. _Too_ genuine. When he had hugged Baekhyun, the other only expressed warmth. Baekhyun had smelled a lot like Jongdae in the embrace— barely there hints of sandalwood. 

He had almost felt bad when he brought Baekhyun back to his office, but the waft of sandalwood kept him grounded. It was a clean kill; a slit to the throat, letting blood flow down to the white carpet as Baekhyun fell, motionless. The carpet had turned red by the end of everything. He had to throw and burn it the very next day. 

The liver was cut in half-inch slices, to which he coated lightly in flour, and sprinkled with salt and pepper. Never too much salt. Always a little bit more pepper. 

Fire flickered on the stove, and he browned some butter on high heat. A few slices of foie followed. A light sear on both sides; it had to be rare in the middle. The whole dish would be ruined otherwise. He hummed to the music- now the foreboding and quiet beginning of Moonlight Sonata- as he served the slices on toasted brioche, when a knock on the door interrupted him. Crisp and abrupt. He could only guess who it was.

Opening the door revealed Jongdae, a black umbrella in his grip. The rain was still falling in torrents, but Jongdae did not seem perturbed by it. Jongdae’s eyes were focused on him, and him only, blazing with what he hoped was anger. 

It always made him happy to see Jongdae angry. 

He calmly opened the door wider, but blocked Jongdae’s path by resting against the door frame, “Well, this is a surprise.”

It wasn’t. He had expected the visit, though he never knew how quickly Jongdae would come. Sometimes, it took weeks, but sometimes, like now, it only took a few days.

“Don’t pretend,” Jongdae replied crudely. His eyes were blank, so hard to read, just like the first time they met.

Red and blue flashed continuously. The sirens still echoed in his mind even after they’d been gone for hours. Jongdae and Baekhyun sat across him, studying him carefully. He was shaking, minutely-- it was harder to fake terror than he had thought. There were gashes all over his body, and a stab to his right thigh, one that was self-instigated, but was blamed on Mïnseok. 

They had been fighting, he forgot about what, but it ended with Mïnseok letting out his final choked gasp, and him inflicting pain on his own body. 

Baekhyun asked him a lot of questions. _What happened? What was the fight about? Who threw the first punch? Has Minseok ever shown signs of violence in the past?_

He answered them all with fabricated honesty, trying his best to look Baekhyun in the eyes to show cooperation, but his eyes kept straying to the man beside him. 

Detective Kim Jongdae had the eyes of the soulless. It bore nothing about him, blank yet assessing. They stripped him of his lies, seeing through all his deception and fake trembling. Yet he did not say a thing. Even after they parted, all Jongdae did was shake his head, then go back to his office. 

He was sent off, and there was no reason for him to think about this case anymore, but Jongdae made him ponder. There was something about the detective’s eyes that he could not shake off and let go, but he could not place the exact reason why.

Walking home, it bothered him still. It felt like those eyes were still looking at him, judging his every move, seeing through his calculated lies. It didn’t dawn on him till night time, when he applied his beauty oil before bed. Staring at his reflection, a realisation jolted through his body. It was right there in front of him the whole time-- the reason why those eyes bugged him so much. 

The detective’s eyes mirrored his own.

Jongdae regarded him with those eyes, now betraying slight suspicion. “What did you do to Baekhyun?”

He smiled, straightening himself, then gestured for Jongdae to follow him. Leading the detective into the kitchen, he pulled out a chair at the dining table, trying his best to conceal his excitement. Though disgruntled, Jongdae still sat, eyes following his every move. 

The liver laid prettily on the brioche, and all that was left was to drizzle it with some reduced balsamic glacé. He walked slowly to the dining table, a depiction of composure, even while Jongdae’s eyes trailed his every movement like a hawk. He placed the plate in front of Jongdae, then took a seat right across from him. Anticipation bubbled beneath his skin, and when Jongdae did nothing to acknowledge the dish, he motioned to it excitedly.

“It’s foie gras.” 

Jongdae looked incredulously at the dish, then at him. Something clicked in the few seconds of silence between them. His eyes steeled, brows furrowing. 

“Whose is it?”

He shrugged, “Whose do you think?”

Furrowed brows lifted, and those blank eyes showed a flicker of emotion. A cloying emotion. A sick and twisted trickle of joy. Jongdae took the brioche in his hand, taking a bite out of it ceremoniously, before almost purring in pleasure.

“You prepared him perfectly,” Jongdae drawled coyly, a smirk lifting the side of his lips. The curtain of blankness has been lifted, and those eyes were barren, yet filled with so much joy, “this is delicious, _Jöngdae_.”

Jöngdae eased into his seat. Weeks of planning, and it had all clicked into place — and so perfectly too. Jöngdae was beyond elated. The tremors in his legs seeped with genuine joy, not a single trace of the faux terror from their first meeting. He took a bite of the foie gras as well, murmuring in satisfaction when the soft texture hit his tongue. Revenge was truly best served in a high class entrée.

He looked at Jongdae’s smile, and he knew he did well again. And there was nothing he wanted to do more than please Jongdae.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank u sexy mods and thank u sexy readers <3


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